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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456032">Three Lashes Later</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilLittleImp/pseuds/EvilLittleImp'>EvilLittleImp</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Brutal Murder, Original Character(s), Pain, Torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:08:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilLittleImp/pseuds/EvilLittleImp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an act of bravery (idiocy?) Rumplestiltskin saves Henry and ends up in a jail cell with the most annoying heroes ever. The person trying to get Henry takes a special interest in Rumplestiltskin, but doesn't go easy. She's named after his long lost, almost forgotten, lover, and she has a twisted way of making him talk. Who will crack first? The imp, or the heroes? And how many will have to die before the boss gets her answer?</p><p>{2/8/21 - I'm extremely sorry, readers, but this story cannot be updated for another several years. I will try to continue this as soon as possible, but I have to wait 'til I turn eighteen. For those who enjoyed this chapter, I'm sorry; for those who don't care. . . have a nice day!}</p><p>{TEMPORARY HIATUS}</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. All in the Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The updates for this will probably be slow, but if you have any ideas for torture, just tell me and I'll be happy to put it in. This is mostly for my twisted mind and all its ideas. </p><p>My mom: What are you writing?</p><p>Me: Torture scenes.</p><p>My parents: Honey, we're really worried. Should we invest in therapy sessions?</p><p>Me: Perhaps.:}</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span> Chapter 1 : All in the Eyes</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   When the portal opened up, that’s when it all started. Of course, no one expects these things to happen, but no one’s surprised, either. The shock, though, came when they all realised the portal opened right under Henry. The poor boy flailed as the ground disappeared from underneath his feet. His arms reflexively sprang out and his fingers hooked over the ground at the edge of the portal. Rumplestiltskin watched as the ring of sparks surrounding the circle of deep obsidian moved outward. Henry moved his hands as fast as the portal expanded in an effort not to fall. Regina, Emma, Snow White, and David moved to help, but the portal was faster. Soon, the attempted rescue resulted in the four, along with Red and a man that Rumplestiltskin didn’t know, dangling precariously from the edge. Everyone scrambled away from the widening hole as the portal continued to grow. The seven unlucky creatures hanging from the edge moved with it; almost falling, but not quite yet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the brave and honorable residents of Storybrooke,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rumplestiltskin thought scathingly. He watched as the townspeople shied away from the dark abyss that invaded the road. The charming prince was making a valiant effort to pull himself up, but the portal was trying much harder to suck its victims in. Rumplestiltskin stood with his hands folded over his cane a good distance away. He would gladly let them fall. What did he care? They would blame it on him the first chance they got. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘If they live,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of him thought with vicious glee. He would bask in their absence. No one to fight him if he decided to do something drastic to the people of this pathetic town. Not one of them was brave enough to step up and help, afraid of the portal expanding again. Rumplestiltskin was preparing to walk away when something caught his eye. Henry turned his head, and the sorcerer’s heart stopped. The boy’s rich brown eyes bore into his twisted soul. The boy’s eyes, which looked so much like his own son’s used to. Rumplestiltskin’s breath caught in his chest as he saw nothing but a fourteen-year-old boy with curly black hair and a confused scowl on his face, one hand on the ground as his body hung in a green portal. Henry was looking at him expectantly with that same confused look; those same eyes. Rumplestiltskin saw the unknown man’s fingers slip as he was sucked into the portal, closely followed by Red. Henry’s fingers slipped too, and before he knew what he was doing, Rumplestiltskin dropped his cane and teleported into the portal. He grabbed the edge with his left hand, and Henry’s arm with his right. The sorcerer thought a surprised squeak might have left Henry’s lips, but if it did, the noise of the portal ripped it away. Just like that night, when his son had noiselessly been screaming ‘coward’ at him. He hauled Henry up with a strength that was only found in the depth of adrenaline. The young child’s hands closed around the edge of the portal and Rumplestiltskin grabbed the waistband of his pants, pushing him up. Rumplestiltskin pointed to David and the boy, still in suppressed shock, scrambled over to his grandfather to help him up. Perhaps the prince could help the others up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   As Charming was slowly pulled from the firm grasp of the portal, it expanded once more. This time, it was much, much wider. Rumplestiltskin lost his grip and distantly thought he heard a scream as he fell into the empty void beneath him. Millions of thoughts raced through his head as Rumplestiltskin fell. Where was he going? Did he lock the doors to his shop? Would Henry be thankful? Could something like this kill an immortal? Would the eyes and voices of his ghosts follow him to wherever he was headed? Did he do something. . . good?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   All his many thoughts were brought to an end as his body connected with something solid. Something heavy and pliable landed on top of him, and he heard voices. Many, many voices. No voices. Complete silence. The silence was far too loud. Realities clashed in his head as Rumplestiltskin struggled to remember what was going on. What was his name? Spindleshanks? No, that couldn’t be it. Though, he knew that name from somewhere. What was happening? Was something happening? The ground was underneath him, but he was floating. He was completely dry, yet he was soaked to the bone. It was freezing cold, but he was sweating from the intense heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Then, when he couldn’t take it anymore and his mind began to slip from him, reality - his reality - came crashing into him. Pain exploded through his body and memories flooded back into his mind. He couldn’t open his eyes or move his body. Darkness oppressed his mind as he slipped into the blissful peace of unconsciousness. No ghosts, no voices, no eyes. It must be over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin looked down at his son as emerald waves swirled around them. His beautiful boy, about to fall. He had made a deal with this boy. Rumplestiltskin had made a deal to get rid of his magic, but he couldn’t do it. No, his magic was all he had. His magic wouldn’t leave, his magic was all he was. Without his magic, he was that lowly spinner who kissed boots so his son wouldn’t be taken from him. His son could leave, magic wouldn’t. Why would his son want him if he had no magic? Once they reached this new land, Rumplestiltskin’s son would realise what a pathetic excuse for a man his papa was, and he would leave. The dagger in his right hand wouldn’t lie or cheat or hurt him. His son could. The boy’s lips moved to an all-too-familiar tune. Coward. So they hadn’t reached this new land and the youth already realised his mistake. As his son’s fingers slipped through his, Rumplestiltskin paused. What was right? His son had said he wanted his papa, but why? The small hand slipped through his scaly one, and his son was gone. Rumplestiltskin cried out in anguish as he realised his boy was gone. Forever. His son wanted him, really, truly. Now, he was gone. Now, he would forever remember his papa as the coward who let him go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bae!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes to shooting pains. His body was on fire in every way possible. His eyes fluttered open to see flax curls and soft, creamy white leather. But, no, it wasn’t what he thought. It was. . . Emma? She was- Oh! The portal. She had landed on top of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm,” he groaned at the pain below his waist, “Miss Swan, if you would be so merciful as to remove your knee from my crotch, I would be extremely grateful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Emma hummed as her eyes slowly opened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She moved around and Rumplestiltskin felt a twinge of pain from where her knee was firmly planted. He winced as wakefulness hit her at what seemed to be the speed of a freight train. Finally realising who she was laying on, Emma squeaked indignantly and scrambled onto her feet. Brushing himself off, Rumplestiltskin followed. Thankfully, his black suit and deep red dress shirt were still intact. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The first things he registered were the other people. The stranger that had fallen through the portal first was talking with Red about something or other. Rumplestiltskin couldn’t bring himself to care as he spotted Regina struggling to her feet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Figures. I get stuck somewhere with the winey wench who cursed an entire forest because a ten-year-old told a secret.’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>He continued to survey the small room and did a double take when he saw Snow helping </span>
  <em>
    <span>David </span>
  </em>
  <span>up. Looks like he was stuck with the dynamic duo as well. Thankfully, Henry didn’t appear to be there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Next, onto the room. It was small, cramped. The walls were only a few yards long each, and there was a door in the middle of one of them. There were no windows, no bars, just a thick metal door. Rumplestiltskin walked up to the door, ignoring everyone else, and attempted to use his magic. He expected to feel the familiar tingle and twinge of his magic rushing to his aid, but. . . nothing. His magic didn’t come, he didn’t smell the ozone that usually invaded the air, and he didn’t get the strange metallic taste in his mouth that came with casting a spell. Just. . . nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is your magic working?” Regina asked, annoyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If my magic was working, do you think the door would still be closed, dearie?” Rumplestiltskin whipped his head around to stare at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Regina snarled, but kept her mouth shut. He was already aggravated, everyone’s idiocy would only make it worse. If he had his magic, he would level this infernal building and, quite possibly, all the people in it. Henry was safe, though. Rumplestiltskin didn’t know why that mattered, it just did. That empty pit in his chest where his heart used to be tingled with satisfaction at the thought of the boy being safe. Perhaps Bae would have been proud of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm, hi. I’m Kylo,” the previously unknown man held out his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care,” Rumplestiltskin hissed as he started pacing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   He was stuck in a dungeon with two love birds, a witch with anger problems, a blonde with an identity crisis, and two random idiots he didn’t really care about. He tried to remind himself why he did this. Why the hell did he do this? Why did he save a boy he didn’t really care about? Because of his eyes. Because of his guilt. Rumplestiltskin felt something, and now he was stuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, we’ll get back to Storybrooke. Everything will be-” Snow smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Rumplestiltskin yelled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   They were stranded who-knows-where, and Snow was selling her stupid cookies again. Those damned hopeful thoughts that led her to trusting everyone with a smile. They weren’t going to get anywhere by trying to be positive. They needed to be realistic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t yell at her! She’s just trying to find the silver lining,” Emma berated harshly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is no silver lining. We’re stuck in a dungeon!” Rumplestiltskin was about ready to rip his hair out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least we’re together,” Snow stated firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That means Henry’s alone! It also means you’re all going to die holding hands. How is that any better?” Rumplestiltskin barked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Normally, he would be calm in this sort of situation. He was Rumplestiltskin, he could get out of anything. But, now he was stuck with the most aggravating people ever. They would kill him before any real threat ever could. Every time he looked at the Charmings, he got this fuzzy feeling in his stomach and experienced the strange urge to hug someone and eat cookies with pink frosting. He didn’t need cookies right now, he needed something to hit that would make a satisfying cracking sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin was about a breath away from hitting someone when the door swung open. A large, square jawed man walked in, closely followed by a shorter man who was just as ripped. They closed the door before Rumplestiltskin could get a good look at the outside of their cell. The first man had black hair and deep green eyes, cold eyes. The eyes of someone who had killed before. The second man looked new, fresh, innocent. He had brown hair and blue eyes. Eyes without shadows, without the weight of death. That would be the man he should try to appeal to. The one who didn’t know what he was getting himself into.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, the portal worked,” the larger man smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see the boy. Clearly, it didn’t work,” the second man looked at his partner, surprised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Patience, Levi, we’re in this for the long game. A few extra pieces never hurt us,” the former smiled again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What boy are you looking for?” Rumplestiltskin asked, though he knew the answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Small kid. Brown hair and eyes. Name’s Henry. You know ‘im?” the man, Levi, looked at him imploringly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t say I do,” Rumplestiltskin caught Emma’s eye and she nodded almost imperceptibly with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s a real shame. Mind giving us a name?” the first man clearly didn’t believe him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   David was about to say something, probably something stupid, like his name. Rumplestiltskin couldn’t let that happen. If he would be stuck with these idiots, he would teach them how to be slightly smarter, or they would die by his own hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His name’s James. I’m Weaver,” Rumplestiltskin cut in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Not terribly creative, but he could have said something stupid, like Mildred. It was certainly far better than Prince Charming. Might as well just announce ‘egotistical arse from Misthaven’ and call it a wrap. Who didn’t know Prince Charming?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh. You the only one who can speak there, Weaver?” the first man looked at him with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Just the only one who can give a logical answer,” Rumplestiltskin shot a warning glance at the others.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   To their credit, they didn’t say anything. He tacked on some points for Red, she seemed to actually be okay with it. The others looked like they wanted him to die. Good thing he didn’t care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well. Where’re you from?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm. Many places. I move a lot,” the imp smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s rather evasive,” Levi cut in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Just the truth,” Rumplestiltskin trilled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re in Realm-X now,” the first man continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, the apocalypse realm,” the imp nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see you study up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see the benefit in being in the dust.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you don’t know Henry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know who that is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whyever would I lie?” Rumplestiltskin painted on his most innocent smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, our boss would like to talk to you,” the larger man said that as though he should be scared. Idiot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Send her in,” he smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what makes you say my boss is a she?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her name is Cora. It’s not a name I would forget. I used to know someone with the same title,” Rumplestiltskin decided to tell the truth on that one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Regina turned to him and glared. Snow looked at him questioningly. Of course, Snow hadn’t known. Snow didn’t know anything. The young queen was blissfully unaware of all the horrible things that went on around her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you know she’s still alive?” Levi asked challengingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s immortal. Except for the X-Arrow. But that’s a whole other story,” Rumplestiltskin smiled at the evident panic on their faces.    </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Levi, go get the boss. She will want to talk to this one,” the large man ordered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin decided Doug would do for the big guy that hadn’t introduced himself. Doug seemed a fitting name. A puppet on strings that were pulled by a queen who mastered carving servants. Her fingers were in everything around the realms, but everyone was blindly ignorant. Except Rumplestiltskin. He wasn’t so stupid as to think Misthaven would be out of the reach of someone powerful. Research had only proven him right, which wasn’t what he wanted. Better to be informed and unhappy than unaware and dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Just then, Levi opened the door to reveal a finely dressed woman. She did indeed remind him of Cora. A long, elegant green velvet dress with deep purple, tear shaped jewels lining the waist. Patterns of yellow-green swirled around in what almost looked like an illusion. She had light skin, unblemished by even the smallest of marks. Her dark hair was taken up in a complex, yet simple style of plaits and curls. If asked, Rumplestiltskin couldn’t say what color her eyes were. The best he could come up with, was death. There was no color, no life. Everytime he settled on something, it just didn’t seem right. They couldn’t be blue, too dark, shadowed with murder. They couldn’t be green, weighed with loathing harder than even the ocean on the rocks, not nearly bright enough. They couldn’t be brown, there was no warmth of fire and chocolate, filled with a desolate emptiness. They couldn’t be anything but death. Not gray, purple, yellow, not anything. Not even black was that dark. He would have prefered black, at least then he could have named his threat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is he the one?” Cora looked to Doug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded and avoided her gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   The cold woman turned to look at Rumplestiltskin and he was hit with the utter beauty of her. He had gotten but a glimpse before, but now he saw. She was utter chaos. She was the embodiment of everything no one wanted to be. She was death, life, sadness, rage, fear, and loss. She was what children dreamt about, the fear they couldn’t describe. She was what broke grown men down to sniveling wimps. The few who had looked her in the eyes and held her gaze had probably been driven to insanity. She was everything that made him burst with sick, evil glee. Everything that was worse than even him. The only person who couldn’t judge him. And she stood right in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My, my. Such a pretty plaything you would make,” Cora reached out to trace an almost-talon from his ear to the corner of his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I should be glad you find me appealing, or offended you think I would be anyone’s plaything,” Rumplestiltskin smiled impishly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm. I like this one. Nothing gets past him,” Cora ran a thumb over his bottom lip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin didn’t move a muscle. Backing down would only mean he was submitting. He wasn’t a pet, or a coward. Never again would anyone call him a coward with just cause. The burning feeling of purpose invaded his mind and kept him determined. He didn’t know why, but he had to protect young Henry. The boy would not be taken by this creature before him. That was what he would tell himself for as long as it took.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me. What do you know of Henry?” Cora asked softly, tenderly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone keeps asking me about a boy named Henry, but I’ve no idea who you speak of,” Rumplestiltskin knew that they knew he was lying, but he couldn’t stop now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will get the information out of you. Even if I have to pry it from between those perfect lips of yours,” Cora whispered with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   All of a sudden, Rumplestiltskin was hit with a wave of euphoria. She was just like his Cora. She would enjoy this game. She stood on the hill while he stood in the valley. She held a sword while he was weaponless. This would be a game that she would play solely for the amusement. Cora knew she would win, she always did. This would be fun. He recognized the challenge in her eyes. Perhaps he would enjoy this little game just as much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-S. Hanson</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Let the Games Begin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoy! The torture warnings come into play on this chapter and probably most of the chapters after this. Unlike some of my other stories, you can't just skip those scenes. Sorry if you don't like torture. :(</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter 2 : Let the Games Begin</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Cora talked to Rumplestiltskin, Red, Emma, Snow, David, Regina, and Kylo each day for five days. They each got two food trays, one in the morning, one at night. Three times a day, a blindfold was placed over their eyes so they could be taken to the bathroom one by one. They never saw the outside. They never smelled, felt, or tasted anything outside their cell. Rumplestiltskin could honestly say he had no escape plan. It would be useless since he didn’t know what surrounded him. There was no way of knowing what was behind the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin enjoyed the game he played with Cora. She always asked him about Henry. He always said he didn’t know the boy. She knew he was lying, he knew she knew. Yet, for five days, she asked him. She talked to the others, sure, but she always asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She was only playing with them. She was only waiting. The real game would begin soon enough, but now, she was readying her pieces for the board. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Henry?” Cora asked on the sixth day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Henry?” Rumplestiltskin replied, continuing their roundabout game.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come now, Weaver. Tell me what I want to hear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could, but what fun would that be?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jasper, start working. Get the answer out of him. You have an hour today,” Cora turned to the man Rumplestiltskin had been calling ‘Doug.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am,” Jasper nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   The large man stepped up to Rumplestiltskin and pulled a blindfold out of his jacket pocket. Jasper placed it around the imp’s eyes and secured his hands behind his back with metal cuffs that were melded together so that his right hand crossed over his left. He knew the others wouldn’t care what happened, no one would, but for a moment, he wished someone would protest. Just a moment, he let himself feel. Maybe not sad, but disappointed. No one cared what they did to him. It didn’t matter, though. He was being pushed to the door, so now came the real challenge. Whatever was about to happen was supposed to break him. The thought sent jolts down his spine. The thrill had adrenaline coursing through him in a matter of seconds. Would they bribe him? Would they hurt him? Would they lock him away in solitude and wait until he breaks? The endless possibilities were exhilarating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   They walked for several minutes before stopping abruptly. Rumplestiltskin heard the scrape of metal against stone and was pushed forward once more. There was a clicking sound, and then silence. Nothing moved, nothing happened. Then, the blindfold was removed. Rumplestiltskin blinked rapidly as a dim light invaded his temporarily sensitive eyes. A few seconds later, Jasper came back into view. He had put the blind fold into his pocket and was standing in the middle of a rather menacing room. Chains hung from the ceiling in different forms, there was a table with many different tools on it, there was another table with leather straps on it, and there were two wooden chairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Jasper walked around Rumplestiltskin and stopped behind him. The larger man removed the imp’s restraint and set them on the table with the tools.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Strip to your waist,” Jasper ordered gruffly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin slipped off his suit jacket and dropped it on the floor. His waistcoat and shirt followed shortly after. He was fit, but not overly muscular. If you looked at him from the right angle, he might even appear malnourished. He watched the man survey him as he distantly thought about the room he was in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘It looks like one of those torture chambers from the movie cliches.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Step forward and raise your arms.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin did just that and Jasper enclosed the imp’s wrists in shackles. His arms were spread Palestinian style and it was vaguely tense. When Jasper adjusted the chains so that only his toes were on the ground, though, it became rather uncomfortable. His limbs were stretched out and the angle hurt his legs. It was a perfect way to keep him from moving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you know about Henry?” Jasper was giving him an easy out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing that you should know about,” Rumplestiltskin smiled coyly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get it out of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doubt it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin knew that, usually, mocking your soon-to-be torturer wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t resist. No one was going to get information on Henry, that was for sure. If they could have opened a portal again, they wouldn’t be talking to him. That told him all he needed to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He saw Jasper grab something that looked... leather, maybe? Perhaps it was a belt. Whatever it was, it was most likely going to hurt. And his thoughts were confirmed when it came down on his skin. Three long gashes appeared in his skin as the three-tailed whip came down. He felt the sharp ends connect with his skin a moment before it started to split open. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. Not even a whimper escaped as he felt sticky rivulets of blood drip from the wounds on his back. The whip came down again, and the end of one of the tails caught on one of his previous wounds. His breath caught in his throat and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. The pain spread through his back as he felt the six wounds simultaneously drenching his skin in crimson waves. The blood dripped onto his remaining clothes, staining the silk and turning it a deep red. Rumplestiltskin was determined not to make a sound, though. The whip came down a third time, and he let the breath out of his lungs so fast his head spun. The whip came down once more, and his mind swam in an ocean of pain. He felt every twinge of his muscles, every twitch of his back. He felt all the burst nerves and veins that criss-crossed along his spine. He couldn’t think of much else. All he could keep in his mind, was the command not to make a noise. He wouldn’t give Jasper the satisfaction. The hellish little whip came down two more times in rapid succession, and he couldn’t breathe through the pain. There was nothing but the bloody mess of his back. His skin was torn and broken, and he knew he was bleeding in waves now. The only thing that kept him awake was the fact that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t make a sound</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He just wouldn’t. The whip came down harshly, and this time, all three ends caught on a previous lash. The smallest of whimpers escaped Rumplestiltskin’s lips. The noise was so quiet, Jasper probably couldn’t hear it. It was there nonetheless, though. The pain was just overwhelming and unbearable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Jasper stepped into his line of sight and he felt his default smirk spread across his face. This man couldn’t break him. If Rumplestiltskin was already shattered, what could anyone else do? Only one person mattered now, and he’d be damned if anything happened to the boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ready to talk?” Jasper looked at him skeptically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to talk about?” Rumplestiltskin pushed all the emotion out of his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Henry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Somewhere on a beach.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give me a location.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a city in Wales.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is Henry there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you go find out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to hurt you again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Rumplestiltskin stated firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Jasper looked confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Oh, there were so many reasons. Because he deserved it. Because it would protect Henry. Because he wasn’t stuck in a room with a bunch of idiots. And maybe, in a deep, dark place he didn’t let anyone see, he liked it. Maybe he was happy he was finally getting punished. Maybe it was nice to feel something. Maybe he was tired of life throwing everything he did back in his face. Maybe this was finally the place he was supposed to be. Hanging from chains in a stone room being tortured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Jasper brought the whip down on Rumplestiltskin’s chest, hard. The imp snapped his head back in pain, but not a sound escaped him. The whip bit into his flesh again, and again, and again. Screams were blocked in his chest as they made their way to his throat, but none of them escaped. Then, one end of the whip caught on the sensitive flesh of his nipple. The pain spread through his body as he felt the tender flesh tear easily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm,” was all that left him as he howled in agony in his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   The whip came down four more times before a moment of relief was found. He was panting as blood dribbled down the side of his mouth. He had bitten into his lip, tongue, and cheek to keep from screaming. His back, chest, and sides were leaking sticky, red liquid down his body. He still hadn’t made a sound. The stinging, aching pain ripped through him as he hung limply from the chains. His legs had given out only one blow later. His arms and shoulders sent sharp pains across his chest every time he tried to move.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Willing to talk now?” Jasper stood in front of him smuggly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to talk about?” Rumplestiltskin wasn’t going to give in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Henry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you do!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe just a little.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? You haven’t been very nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sorry. Would ya like a cookie?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’d be lovely, thank you,” Rumplestiltskin smiled tiredly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Jasper released his arms from the chains and Rumplestiltskin crumpled to the floor. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his sore legs under him. He was just too tired. Jasper grabbed a rag and knelt next to his victim. Before he could object, Rumplestiltskin felt the rag on his wounds. He hastily bit back a cry as the rough material was dragged across his open wounds. Much to his chagrin, a small whimper sounded out. This one was audible. Jasper smiled as he pushed the cloth into some of the deeper lashes, making the whimpers grow more consistent. They were just slipping out through the hazy blockades Rumplestiltskin constructed in his chest. Through his pain induced daze, Rumplestiltskin felt himself being hauled a short ways before being dumped on something cold and hard. He vaguely felt hands turning him over, onto his stomach, and leather straps fastening around his wrists and ankles. He heard a strange sizzling sound and briefly wondered what it was. Suddenly, he felt searing pain on his back. It felt like he was being lashed all over again with thicker whips. His eyes rolled back into his head as a scream finally escaped him. It rang out loudly through the room as he struggled to keep control of himself. The pain only got worse as it moved from wound to wound on his back. His chest was burning from the contact with the table, but he would suffer that a hundred times over if it would save his back. He didn’t know what was happening, but it felt like hell. He managed to swallow a second scream as the searing pain moved around. What in all the realms was Jasper doing to him? Rumplestiltskin took in a sharp breath as the leather straps were undone and he was flipped over. His back made contact with the cold metal under him, and he gasped in pain. The straps were redone on his wrists and ankles as he finally saw what was happening. Jasper was holding a white-hot rod. He must be cauterizing the wounds. Rumplestiltskin watched as the rod was brought down on his stomach. His back arched off of the table and he felt the burnt lashes on his back stretch. He screamed as pain rocketed through his torn body. No matter how he moved, it was still there. Jasper smiled as he moved the rod from spot to spot, closing the wounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   A few minutes later, most of the wounds were closed and even more painful. After a moment of contemplation, Jasper brought the rod down on Rumplestiltskin’s torn nipple. The imp screamed and thrashed in the restraints as the tender flesh was burnt. The smell was sickening as it filled the air. The burnt skin and blood would have made most people gag, but he was used to it. He began to convulse as his cauterized wounds sent shockwaves through his battered body. He felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>down to the last pained nerve. He nearly blacked out after all the stimulation his mind had been put through. A normal person would have, but he wasn’t normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get you back. The boss said only an hour,” Jasper sounded apologetic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin’s torturer undid his bonds and grabbed his shirt. The imp couldn’t move, and could barely breathe. He didn’t know how he would possibly get back to the cell. Jasper hauled him up and he swallowed yet another scream that desperately wanted to leave him. The wounds all over his body twinged in protest as Rumplestiltskin felt his shirt being put back on him. He didn’t get his other clothes, just his shirt. Jasper pulled the blindfold from his pocket and wrapped it around Rumplestiltskin’s head, not that he could see through the pain anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   When his feet touched the floor, Rumplestiltskin’s muscles screamed in protest. He struggled to keep his composure as he straightened himself. He would walk back to the cell, and he wouldn’t let the others see how hurt he was. He kept repeating that to himself as they moved in silence. Pain shot through him as they walked through what felt like endless tunnels. Or, at least, he assumed they were tunnels. They could be anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   When they stopped, the sound of metal against stone was heard as he was pushed forward roughly. He nearly fell over as he stumbled into the stone cell. His blindfold was removed and he blinked at the assault of light. He saw curious eyes staring back at him as he turned to see Jasper’s insufferable smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Jasper nodded as he walked out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you will,” Rumplestiltskin laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   This wasn’t going to end any time soon, but Henry would stay safe. Nothing would happen to that boy no matter how hurt Rumplestiltskin was. Nothing would happen to those haunting brown eyes. Realms of soldiers could flay his skin, but Rumplestiltskin wouldn’t say a thing to them. There was only one thing left to do: let the games begin.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Broken Forms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter 3: Broken Forms</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   The others questioned him about what happened endlessly. Why should he tell them? They didn’t need to know he was hurt. They didn’t need to know he screamed. No, he would keep that to himself. He couldn’t afford to care about anyone else, not right now. He needed to focus on Henry. That boy may have an idiot family, but at least one logical person would be looking out for him. He would suffer eternity before he would say a thing about Henry. The question was: would he have to?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Henry?” Cora asked, only a day after he had been tortured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Henry?” Rumplestiltskin gave her his twisted little smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We could go in circles for a very long time, pet. I would, however, prefer that you just give me what I want,” she stepped right up to him, just like before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s all you ever want, isn’t it? Something for you. Well, the land you took us from has this saying. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’ I believe you can figure out how that works into this situation,” the imp spat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Cora knew he was in this for the game. She didn’t know he was in this for the peace, though. That’s the one crucial part she wouldn’t get. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>feelings</span>
  </em>
  <span> involved. Maybe, just maybe, though, this time that would help him. Just possibly, he would win.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Cora grabbed his jaw with her hand so they were nose to nose. They could argue for eternity, and they would just be right back where they started. He could get lost in those eyes, he really could. Anything they had, though, he knew wouldn’t be love. Both of them had lost the ability to love, long ago. If they ever had anything, it would be pure lust and need for touch. They were both starved of all the things that made people human. Touch, smiles, feelings, care, love. What did that make them? People kept telling him it made him a monster, but what was the truth? Were they monsters, or just lost?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jasper will be taking you, now,” Cora smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   She was a monster. She didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> the love. She wanted the realms - all of them - to be just as they were. She wanted to be feared, hated, loathed, with no one to bring her back from the edge she readily ran to. She wanted the darkness, the evil. Cora wanted to be alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you do it?” Rumplestiltskin blurted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do what?” Cora cocked her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any of it. Why do it alone? I mean, I understand arms length, but alone?” he questioned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven,” Cora turned with a smile, and walked out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Jasper came in as his boss left. He knew his job. Rumplestiltskin grabbed the blindfold and put it over his eyes. Next, Jasper secured the imp’s hands behind his back. They walked the few minutes it took to get to that stone room. That same sound came, that same cold draft hit them. Rumplestiltskin’s blindfold was removed so he could see the dimly lit room. Just as he remembered. His cuffs were undone so that he could lift his arms into the chains. But, when he lifted his arms up, Jasper shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shirt off,” the man commanded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin did as he was told, taking his shirt off carefully. The fabric had been rubbing on his burns, but that had been of little concern before. His hands shook slightly as he undid the buttons to his dress shirt. What would happen this time? Did it really matter? It was all going to hurt anyways.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chair.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   The imp looked to one of the two chairs in the room. Very well, he would bite. He wouldn’t ask, he wouldn’t fight, he would do it. There wasn’t really a point in resisting anyways, was there? So, he walked over and sat in the chair. Jasper clasped leather restraints over his wrists and ankles. The soft but rough texture rubbed against his skin in an almost comforting way. Leather had always been comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Jasper grabbed a small felt cloth. When he unrolled it, Rumplestiltskin got a clear view of the various length needles. How exactly was he planning to use those? The man only looked over and smiled. It was as if he was saying, ‘I’m going to enjoy this. What can you do about it?’ And what could he do about it but sit there? So that's what he did. He sat there, and waited patiently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Jasper began as he prepared whatever he was doing, “When I started working for her, I was just as any ignorant man is. I didn’t see the beauty of it all. I didn’t see the big picture,” Jasper picked out a needle, a long one, “She doesn’t just bring the freedom of one ruler with simple rules, no. She brings acceptance also. Acceptance for the darkness, the endless void of black. Many people try their best to conform to the narrow minded beliefs of humanity, the beliefs of ‘good’ and ‘right’. Do you know what’s wrong with that? Not everyone sees life that way. Sometimes, it just feels good to do something wrong, to make someone scream, to watch someone bleed. Now, I do this as a job, you see, but I enjoy it. At first, I was uncomfortable, I wanted to show mercy, I wanted to spare people. The more I tortured, though, the more I saw. You can’t stick with the ‘bad’ people when everyone’s the same. Everyone deserves punishment, and everyone deserves pleasure. This is both my punishment and my pleasure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   The needle made Rumplestiltskin apprehensive, but he listened to the story intently. He combed through every word with a fine point. . . well, needle. He took in each syllable and meticulously picked at every phrase. Every shift, every twitch, he took it all in. In a matter of minutes, he had figured out everything about the man standing before him, ready to torture him. Jasper put all of his trust in Cora, really did enjoy torture, and believed every word he had spoken. This man wasn’t a monster, but he wasn’t lost either. No, he was something else entirely. He was the savage wolf that followed the pack leader. The beast who followed a monster. The man believing in the only person that showed him what he wanted. He was only a follower, dancing to the tune of eternity. Like Cora said, ‘better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   All thoughts abandoned him though, when that damned needle went straight into a bundle of his nerves that started at his elbow and spiraled over his arm all the way to his finger tips. Strange, how one, thin needle in only one spot can cause so much pain. Rumplestiltskin threw his head back, but no matter how hard he grit his teeth and bit his cheek, he still screamed out in pain. True to his word, Jasper drank up every sound like water from a fountain. The man really did look rather delighted. Once the imp started, he couldn’t stop. He screamed as tingles and pains flew through his arm. He felt it in his fingers as the agony twisted and turned through him. He finally stopped screaming, only to whimper every other breath. Every moment he existed in this plane of existence, he felt the pain shoot through his nerves. Then, when he wished for nothing more than his arm removed, Jasper put a needle of equal size in the other arm. Rumplestiltskin’s mouth gaped open as an almost soundless scream flew from him. It hurt more than the whip, it was more focused. He felt only a few drops of blood drip down his arms. Wounds that could be patched up with a bandaid, and if he were standing, they would have brought him to his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Jasper said something. Rumplestiltskin saw his mouth open, but he couldn’t hear anything. Jasper’s hand shot into his hair so that he was tilting the imp’s head back. The sudden yank on his scalp was nothing compared to the needles in his arms, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Henry?” Jasper repeated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Even in his ocean of misery, Rumplestiltskin had enough presence of mind to spit in Jasper’s face. There was no way he would give up that boy’s location. No way in hell. He could be burned at the stake, and he wouldn’t utter a word about young Henry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Jasper wiped the spittle off his face and scowled. He released Rumplestiltskin’s hair and walked back over to his felt cloth. He pursued his options for a moment before selecting one of the shortest needles. He walked back over and pushed his victim’s face to the side, exposing his neck. The imp barely had enough time to think before agony exploded through a latticework of nerves and muscles. He would have screamed, but he couldn’t breathe through the pain the needle in his neck was causing. He tried to gulp in the air, but he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move or make a sound. The edge of his vision was fading to black as his eyes drooped. Then, it was blissful darkness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   She was gone. She was gone and was never coming back. It was all his fault. It wasn’t the queen’s fault, it was his fault. Maybe she had loved him. Rumplestiltskin looked down at his spinning wheel as he tried, yet again, to forget. He had been spinning then, when she was taking down his curtains. She had laughed at his quip, really laughed. It had been such a lovely sound, melodic and light as it danced through the air. Her smile had lit up the room, had made it glow with a kind of life that had been missing from his life for so long. Then, she had fallen, and he had caught her. The feeling of her soft, supple skin beneath his scaled and taloned hands had felt like heaven. He had never wanted to let go, but the pale skin against golden and green scales had only reminded him of what he was. He was a monster, a beast. She was a pure woman, a girl really, but such a beauty. He had let himself love, and now he was only hurt again. She had left, she had gone, and it was his fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The doors to his main hall burst open with a flourish. She had walked out those doors. Now, it was Regina, but before it had been her. The queen wanted to make a deal, but he wasn’t dealing today. She had made a deal with him, once upon a time. Regina wouldn’t go, though. The queen wanted whatever she wanted, but she wouldn’t get it. Then, Regina mentioned a tragedy. A girl, her father, her home, cleansing, clerics, whips. Falling. No, no, no! The queen lied. Regina lied to hurt, to win. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t possible. Not his strong willed, independent beauty. Not her too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The queen was gone. She was gone now. Then, he heard his name. His name fell from soft, sad, pleading lips. ‘Rumplestiltskin’ was whispered with the utmost care and maybe even love. His name slipped from the lips that had attempted to break his curse. She was still alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin teleported to the west tower of King Maurice’s castle. The imp could save his love. He could save her. He saw her. He saw her soft blue eyes, full of love and belief. . . and pain. She was hurt because of him. Her thin white bodice was torn in the back where long red gashes expelled crimson floods. The lashes had hit her perfect skin so many times over. It was his fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Then she was gone. He was too late. It was his fault. The rocks beneath welcomed the fallen star with the pretty claws of eternity. The sun could have frozen, the realms melted, the planets exploded, but eternity was the line. The rule magic couldn’t break. The place he couldn’t follow. She was gone. Rumplestiltskin looked down on her broken form, splayed over the rocks. She had a smile on her face. Her eyes were glazed over, her blood was everywhere, but there was a smile on her face. The smile that once lit a room, that made his heart flutter, now as cold and dark as his soul, her body as twisted as his mind. Years of darkness, spent dripping in evil, and now this. That flicker of light in his ocean of darkness blinked for the last time before an even darker abyss came to corrupt the darkest madness that infested his very existence. No, he was the madness. He was the darkness. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was his fault.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Belle!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}-{=}</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin had tears streaming down his face as fast as they possibly could. He was still lost in the darkness of his past when he felt the physical pain return. He had swapped bodily pain for a deeper ache, but only for a moment. It felt like it had been an eternity, yet another eternity. He deserved the pain and the loss, but his Belle didn’t. No, she deserved love and respect. She deserved every good thing life could offer to her. She deserved the world. Now, she would never get any of that, because of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The imp screamed in frustration, agony, dread, guilt, and determination. None of these people would touch Henry, not one of them. The pain was worth the lad’s safety. So, he screamed. He let out all the screams he needed to, because it didn’t matter any more. He would do it, for as long as it took.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   After a while longer, his screams quieted to whimpers as his nerves burned in pain. His breathing was heavy and his body was damp with sweat. Jasper came over and slowly removed the needles. Rumplestiltskin shook with relief, though the pain stayed with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you’ve had enough for today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>   Rumplestiltskin was released and was given his shirt. He buttoned it up and took the blindfold. His upper body ached, but he didn’t care. He was fighting, in all the ways that mattered. The others didn’t need to know a thing. He was fighting, and that was enough. He would never soothe his soul, or straighten his mind, or make his cold, dark heart beat again, but he could do this one thing. He could save Henry. Maybe Belle would be proud of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Jasper led the imp back to his cell. His blindfold was untied, his cuffs undone. It was just one more day the mark off a calendar with no date. He would do this as many times as it took. He would do this forever. For Henry. For Belle. For Bae.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next time, I’m coming for three of you,” Jasper smiled, and walked out the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-S. Hanson</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Please comment. :}</p></blockquote></div></div>
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